


Everything is unwritten but us.

by skyblue993



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Derek and Stiles have to find each other, Derek is human, Drama, Dreams, Light Angst, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Soulmate Bond, Stilinski Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-14 02:49:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10527273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyblue993/pseuds/skyblue993
Summary: This is the moment he's been waiting throughout the whole day, when the outside world just disappears and he finally gets to be with him, even if just for a little while, even if just by getting some glimpses of his life through his soulmate's eyes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based off this prompt :"If you’re on separate time zones, when you sleep, you see the world in the eyes of your soulmate at present time. You see the world through your soulmate’s eyes, what they’re eating, who they’re talking to, the contents of the essay paper they’re trying to finish, but if they look into a mirror/reflective surface/picture, the image is blurred so you don’t really have a clue what they look like." I found on [Tumblr](http://silentpeaches.tumblr.com/post/125291322610/soulmate-au-story-ideas). (This is a soulmate AU's goldmine!)
> 
>  

This fic is based off this prompt:"If you’re in separate time zones, when you sleep, you see the world in the eyes of your soulmate at present time. You see the world through your soulmate’s eyes, what they’re eating, who they’re talking to, the contents of the essay paper they’re trying to finish, but if they look into a mirror/reflective surface/picture, the image is blurred so you don’t really have a clue what they look like." I found on [Tumblr](http://silentpeaches.tumblr.com/post/125291322610/soulmate-au-story-ideas). (This is a soulmate AU's goldmine!)

 

 

Derek finally flops down on his bed after a stressful day at work; Dealing with customers is never easy. Sometimes they just fuel the murderous urge to rip their heads off with his teeth but then, he reminds himself that he needs to pay his bills, after all, and it's enough to momentarily quench that raging instinct.

The moment he lets his eyelids to finally drift shut, he's startled by the abhorring sound of his ringtone breaking the peaceful silence. He grunts as he blindly reaches for it on his nightstand and as soon as he peeks at the ID caller, he can't help but roll his eyes at the habit of his sister to call him at the most appropriate hour of the day, like in the middle of the night for example. He decides to put his phone on silent mode and if whatever Cora has to say to him, if it's a matter of life or death she'll call him back.

He sinks down on his bed, letting out a content sigh as he closes his eyes. This is the moment he's been waiting throughout the whole day when the outside world just disappears and he finally gets to be with  _him,_  even if just for a little while, even if just by getting some glimpses of his life through his  _soulmate's_  eyes.

Derek has always wondered if _this,_ actually snooping into this person's eyes as soon as he drifts off to sleep, is something conventional between soulmates. He has a lot of question he has never gotten an answer to because, apparently, from he's been able to find in books or on the internet, from the moment we're born, our soulmate is somewhere out there just waiting for you. It's Someone that completes you. Someone whose heart beats, races, _lives_ , in perfect synchronism with your own. Someone's bound to be yours till your dying breath. The bond between two soulmates is already established at their birth by a small, little mark, right on the underside of the fourth finger on the left hand, in direction of the  _Vena Amoris._  It's usually a number, a weird indecipherable scribble, a letter. It's something you and your soulmate share and it shows on your skin until the moment you finally meet.

He's gotten used and almost fond of these brief, clandestine meetings by now but when he first started having these weird dreams, he usually woke up panting and wide-eyed and  _way_  more drained out of energy than before. He still remembers the first time he dreamt through  _his_  eyes. The moment _he_ opened his eyes, a tall, dark-haired woman came through the door with a bright smile on her face, holding a birthday cake in her hands. “Happy birthday, Stiles!”

His chest grew heavy with happiness at the sight before his eyes, a glowing smile taking over his features as he let the woman pull him into a hug, burying his face into the crook of her neck, long, slim fingers tangling in the dark cascade of curls as he breathes out sleepily. “Thank you, mom.”

Derek was astonished by the fact that a simple dream like that could affect him that deeply. It seemed like every emotion this _Stiles guy_ felt, at the moment, he could feel it too. When Stiles' mom hugged him, Derek felt a rush of warmth and affection filling his chest, recalling him of the times his mom used to hug him tight to her chest, or all the times she surprised him with waffles for breakfast because it was his favorite food when he was a kid, or all the times she used to knock on his door, at night, and then kiss him goodnight on his forehead. Witnessing that scene caused him a stabbing ache in his chest, making him hard to breathe at the realization that for the briefest moment, it felt like mom and son were finally reunited.

He called sick to work that day due to his incapacity to stand upright without getting the feeling of the room spinning around him. Derek actually fainted, that one time, being jerked awake around midday by Cora's alarmed voice calling his name and shaking his whole frame. As soon as his eyes slowly fluttered open, he felt the cold sensation of the kitchen title against his cheek, realizing he passed out on the kitchen floor. 

That belief did nothing but grow stronger when these dreams became a regular occurrence after that day and left Derek a limb of trembling flesh wrapped in a  mess of tangled sheets every single morning until Derek finally gained the gift of speech again and asked Cora if it ever happened to her, to dream about someone else's life.

Cora bit on his lip, giving a small nod of her head as she admitted, "It probably means that the clock's ticking, Der and I guess it's time for you to meet him."

It left Derek more confused than before with a myriad of questions spinning in his head like a freaking tornado. Who is he dreaming of? Is this person aware of the privacy invasion? How long is he supposed to have this kind of dreams? 

"It's always based on different circumstances.." Cora told him, wiping a wet cloth over his sweaty forehead.

"Circumstances?"

"Yeah, depending on time or distance or the intensity of your bond."

"He's usually getting awake when I start dreaming. It's like 8 am over there, I think."

"Ouch.." Cora's nose scrunches up in an odd frown as she said, "He's like six hours ahead of you."

"So?"

"So? Derek. It means your soulmate lives somewhere in Europe, probably."

Derek actually felt air winding out of his lungs at the brand new piece of information. 

"Europe? M-my soulmate lives in Europe?"

_Just Awesome,_ Derek thought bitterly, deciding that since the only chance to get a glimpse of his life was through his dreams, he was determined to make the most out of it.

 

Derek's eyelids flutter shut, his dark lashes fanning against his cheeks as he drifts off to sleep with a soft smile on his lips in thrilling anticipation, oblivious that that smile will sadly have a very short life.

Derek can't make out why it's so dark, out there, today. He doesn't recognize this from any other place he's been through Stiles' eyes so far. All he can feel is that Stiles would want to be anywhere but this place. 

"I'm so sorry."

Derek can't see anything more than a blurred shadow before his eyes as those words are being taken in by Stiles' fragile soul. Derek is more confused than he's ever been. Who is this man? Why is he apologizing to Stiles? What's going on? 

He feels a cold shudder going through his whole body when Stiles lets out a wounded noise from his throat resembling a sob and then, it's like being hit by an Earthquake; Everything starts trembling.

"We did everything we could." 

"No." Derek's growing anxious with each passing seconds, now, more than ever, he'd want to see clearly what's going on. What's causing the excruciating pain in his chest with every sob rising up Stiles' throat. "No.. y-you-- there's must be something y-you can do! P-Please, d-do something!"

 

“ _I'm sorry, Derek.”_

It all sounds painfully familiar..

 

"I'm sorry, Stiles." 

"Mom." Stiles is sobbing loudly, his heart racing so fast that it's probably gonna burst out of his chest at any moment. Derek would like to be with him right now, comfort him and tell him that it's okay to cry, to feel like the ground has just shattered open beneath his feet. It will most likely never go away, this feeling of emptiness creeping in his chest. He wants to tell Stiles that he still feels like the time has stopped around him, sometimes leaving him alone in his grief.

He would do anything in order to be someone Stiles can physically and emotionally rely on, rather than just witnessing aimlessly at the scene. He doesn't like the feeling of being a spectator to this heartbreaking moment in Stiles' life. "Mom, please come back!" 

Derek can smell grief reeking off his body with every sob escaping his throat.

There's suddenly a dark shadow clouding his sight once again and then _, it all turns black._

 

Derek wakes up in the middle of his dream, gasping for air with eyes blown wide in utter distress, wetness trailing down his cheeks and a void in his chest he hasn't felt in _years_ but somehow a lot deeper than ever before.

 

When Derek drifts off to sleep, the night after, he's aware of what he'll most likely see but the urge to make sure that Stiles is alright is worth any kind of heartache he's going to endure.

For whatever odd reason, his sleep is dreamless for the first time in _months._

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is always appreciated :) you can find me on tumblr : Skyblue993


	2. Chapter 2

"Stiles, can you hear me?"

Stiles' eyes slowly flutter open at the sound of a low, husky voice gently calling his name. His long eyelashes fan against his cheeks as he blinks faintly, adjusting to the dim light of the room whose only illumination source is the crappy wavering from the ceiling. He stirs briefly before slowly sitting up on the quite uncomfortable bed, his gaze lazily wandering as he takes in the surroundings. He's in a bed, _his_ own bed, and his father, also known as the man that he hasn't seen for at least two years, is now standing at his bedside, staring at him with apprehension oozing from every pore. Stiles' lips part open just slightly as his brain snaps back from the momentary state of daze and gears finally starts moving in his head back again, wondering how has he ended up back to his house; The last thing he remembers is the white noise in his ears, so incredibly defeating that caused his sight to go completely back.

He also wonders when and most importantly why is father's here in his own house, gracing him with his presence.

His father is pretty skilled when it comes to reading the look on people's faces, what goes through their minds if they're hiding something. It's not just a case that he's the sheriff of a local town back in California.

After the initial moment of crashing awkwardness, the sheriff finally speaks up, "I took the first flight as soon as I heard about your mother."

Stiles gives a small nod of his head, staring at his hands clasped in his lap. He gets it. It makes sense that at least for this occasion, his father thought it was appropriate to finally pay a visit.

He hears his father clearing his throat before muttering softly, "She was--"

Stiles' face jerks upwards as the words leave his mouth, shooting a sharp look to his own father, finally feeling functioning enough to utters words out, "Don't talk about her. Don't.. don't even."

The sheriff raises an eyebrow at the harshness and hurt filling Stiles' voice having figured that he'd rather let him off steam, even if quite unfairly since _Stiles_ was the one refusing to see him than idly witnessing as Stiles bottles up his grief. He gets that both of the Stilinski parents, got caught in the whole divorce thing and especially with the incoming moving, haven't exactly put Stiles' best interests and will in the forefront of the aftermath.

"You don't know how she was. You don't know a single _shit_ about how it has been for the both of us, so how about you go back to your beloved town in California to your citizens? Huh? Isn't there a crime requiring your undeniable brilliant mind to solve, sheriff? "

"I will.." the sheriff admits with quietness filling his voice, watching Stiles as he gives a sigh that can only be described as _utter relief_ that, sadly, does nothing but increase the feel of guilt and utter charing creeping through his chest, right now hating himself for dropping the bomb right in the middle of the emotional turmoil afflicting Stiles. "And you are coming with me."

 

There's a long pregnant moment filling the air during which Stiles just stares at his father with mouth hanging open, then, he seems to snap back from it, the corners of his lips twitching just slightly as he's trying to fight back a laugh.

"No, I am not."

"Stiles.."

The smile slowly starts faltering off his face, until there's nothing but a blank stare on his face.

"You are kidding, I hope."

The sheriff's lips twitch downwards in a dismayed smile as he breathes out feebly, "I am not, son."

"Son?! S-" Stiles shakes his head in disbelief, covering his face with his hands as his body's being crossed by a fit of incredulous laughter. His father doesn't even flinch, he just waits until Stiles' cooled down. It takes a while until Stiles finally drops his hands and stares at him with an eyebrow raised sardonically.

 _"Son._ You know, it's ridiculous that you even dare to call me that, to be honest."

"Stiles, I get that you're angry because of your mother's death--"

Stiles' eyes go wide as a hollow laugh escapes his throat, spitting back, "Jesus. Tactful as usual, sheriff."

Stiles notices how the sheriff's tempted to roll his eyes but refrains himself, eventually. His expression changing from sorry to firm in the blink of an eye as he repeats, calm but sternly as to not admitting objections from Stiles' side. "After the funeral, we're leaving for Beacon Hills."

"I'm not! I've got my whole life here! My school, my friends! You can't just show up here and just assume I'd go along with that! _No fucking way!_ "

"Language, young man." The sheriff chastises him with a stern pitch in his voice that causes his mouth to drift agape.

A noise between a snort and a hollow laugh escapes his throat as he runs his hands through his hair. The sheriff seizes the opportunity of the heavy silence coming from Stiles' part and tries to explain as gently as he can manage. "Your mother and I both shared your custody and I know she would agree with me. Deep down, you know that too, Stiles."

"I'm almost eighteen. I can take perfectly take care of my myself, on my own." Stiles spits back angrily, clearly seething with rage. "You just go back to your life, your town, your job and leave me live _my_ life."

"You know I can't, Stiles." His father's objections do nothing but make him roll his eyes, because. Seriously? He's been living to the other end of the world for all this time, before. "You are a minor." 

"I don't care! I won't leave everything behind just because of one of your whims!"

"You already did, before. Don't you remember? As far I can see, you survived." Stiles' breath gets caught in his throat, recalling the whole period that preceded the moving. He was just a seven-year-old boy, caught in between a storm he's always going to remember as the _Stilinski's Apocalypse_ starting when his mother got a teaching job offer at the university of Breslavia, her home town. Stiles has ever been kept in the dark about what brought that trainwreck of a marriage to its breaking point but She decided to take that offer without even consulting with her husband first, taking for granted that the sheriff was going to follow along in order to keep their family united but clearly, the sheriff did not share that sentiment. He refused to leave his whole life behind to start a new life in Breslavia. He liked his life and honestly, their marital problems started _way_ before  Claudia's decision to move to Europe to chase her dream job. It was a whole chaos of communication issues (which is the key of every working relationship.), lack of will on both parts to admit their faults and something that Stiles' still hasn't figured out yet, but whatever caused the loud fights in the middle of the night, certainly was something bad, like epically _bad_.

Stiles was sitting on the top of the staircase, intently eavesdropping to the whole conversation revolving around his mom's incoming moving. He couldn't hear what his father reply was when Claudia announced she was going to take Stiles along with her to Breslavia. All he heard was heavy, soul-crushing silence. 

Stiles wasn't exactly destroyed at the idea to leave Beacon Hills elementary school which, going by the multitude of people bullying the crap out of Stiles on daily basis, could as well be called: _Bullies_  Hills school.  There was this boy, though. Stiles didn't know his name but he could see him from distance, his dark eyes burning a hole in the back of the bullies' head as they encircled him and knocked him to the ground before stealing his lunch. Stiles met his eyes briefly, before covering his head with his hands in the throes of pain hitting him to the stomach due by those scum bags' kicks, before disappearing into the crowd of people, a few seconds later. 

"Pack your things."

"Wh-- holy shit, are you serious?"

"As serious as the ferret that died on your head. As soon as the funeral's over, you're coming to Beacon Hills with me."

 


End file.
